Tears of Blood
by Nubian Queen
Summary: Based off of Dracula 2000. What might have happened if Mary went a different route with what she found out about Judas? Reviews appreciated!
1. Chapter 1 The Awakening

_While I didn't particularly enjoy the movie when I saw it, I thought that it could have had some real potential. Althoughthe filming just screamed 'classic hacker',(excepting a few, brief, moments) the idea behind it was really intriguing. WHAT IF Dracula really was Judas Iscariot from the Bible? It raised all sorts of interesting possibilities and endings for me. (By the way, I didn't like the way the movie ended. Where was my closure? Anybody?)_

_As for the setting, I suggest if you haven't already rented the DVD and watched the Judas Fantasy Sequence or the extended version of the Cross scene, do it. I used a lot of them in this story because it just made the story fit so much better. This starts after Mary is bitten, discovers Dracula's roots and wakes up._

_Oh yes, and one more thing, **PLEASE **review me even if you think it should be flamed like Drac!_

Chapter 1-The Awakening

Mary awoke and slowly sat up, looking around herself for...something. And then she saw him;

Drac- no, Judas, standing before the great luminescent cross with his hands clasped, as if in

prayer. Mary stood there, leaning against the wall and trying to get her bearings. She watched the

man in front of her as he ranted at the great painted cross before them. Her emotions were

whirling and she couldn't tell which were really hers and which were leftover from whatever he had

done to connect her to him. All she knew was roiling waves of grief and pain, anger and anguish

and, as she listened to him speak, she began to cry, knowing that she was the only one who could

give vent to their shared feelings in that way.

She thought back to the vision she had just seen, the one he had shared with her. Her terror rose

as she remembered the very end when he grabbed her and pulled her towards him. Then, she

remembered what she had not really heard the first time...his words.

_"Free me, Mary." _

The pain, the intensity, the desperate hope behind those simple words seemed to reach out and

take hold of her and she closed her eyes against the sudden knowledge that she truly was the only

one in this world who could give him that freedom. And as she saw the world around her with the

new and crystal clearness of her vampiric senses, so also did she see the man now kneeling before

that great cross with a new clarity. It was frightening and bewildering but yet, for the first time in

her life, she knew, without a doubt, why she was alive.

Her reverie was interrupted as she heard his hypnotic voice call her name.

"Come, Mary." She looked up and saw he was now standing and holding out his hand to her. She

felt her feet move almost of their own volition towards him. She took his outstretched hand and

he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. It was everything she had ever thought a kiss should

be. Tender, passionate, utterly compelling. She would never have thought him capable of such a

thing if she were not experiencing it firsthand. She wanted to deepen it, see what other

unexpected responses she could elicit. She raised her hand to his head, just barely touching him.

_His hair feels like silk. _

She had only made this observation before he raised his head, his eyes glowing red for but a moment and she wondered briefly if her own now did the same.

"Let us feast." And he let her towards the now open French doors and _'Oh, God!' _they had Simon

tied and apparently ready to be the sacrificial lamb. _'She couldn't! She could NOT!' _Mary's mind

was screaming at her and she felt the panic rising up within her. Simon was her friend! Her

father's surrogate son! She WOULD NOT destroy him! And she would allow no one else to

destroy him either.

Some of her chaotic feelings must have escaped her because she suddenly felt HIS eyes upon her,

questioning her. She unexpectedly saw herchance to aviod thisand turned, burying her face

against his chest and grasping onto his coat.

"I can't touch him!" she whispered fiercely, "I don't WANT to touch him!"

"Oh, come on Mare," she heard Lucy say. Almost sweetly, she whispered, "We saved him just

for you."

Mary shivered and looked up pleadingly into his eyes, willing him to understand.

'Please, I can't do this! Not right now!'

'_It will be alright, Mary.' _Amazingly, she heard him speak...in her mind. He wrapped his arms

around her and spoke aloud to his minions.

"Stay here and keep him tied. We will return later."

And before she could utter another word, they were gone, Simon staring after them with a

hopeless look on his face.

They landed in the courtyard of her home. Mary stepped away, running her hands up and down

her arms in a distracted way. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that. I've always hated heights."

She turned to find him standing in front of her mother's prized bougainvillea, absently stroking a

petal and staring up at the night sky.

He was such a contradiction to her. She wanted so desperately to hate him, _'he had killed her _

_father!'_, but she couldn't. For when she looked in his eyes, she saw not only the eyes of the

creature that had killed him and probably countless others; not just the eyes of a terrifying stranger,

she saw also the eyes of her dream angel. The one who had been with her in her dreams for as

long as she could remember.

The tortured eyes of a man who had no hope.

She walked forward and reached up, placing her palms against his back. She felt him stiffen and

she knew he was going to turn to confront her. She quickly spoke. "No, please. Don't turn. I

want...I _need_ to tell you something and I don't think I can say it facing you."

She felt his back move as he breathed in deeply. "What is it you wish to say, Mary?" Her heart

contracted unexpectedly at the tone of his voice. _he sounded so...sad._

She took a deep breath of her own and realized, with a faint shock, that it was the first true breath

she'd taken since awaking. For some reason, that made her suddenly want to weep and she had to

fight the urge, dropping her head forward til it rested between her hands. It was then a disturbing

thought occured to her.

"Tell me, can you read my mind?"

"Only if you wish it. My blood is in your veins, you can block me if you so desire." His voice

sounded husky, strained. _Was he hiding something?_

"Let me rephrase that then. _Have_ you read my mind?"

He closed his eyes, even though she couldn't see, and swallowed hard.

_She must know the answer to that,_ _why was she asking? _He had been able to sense her

presence since her very conception. _'But only when she let him in, only when she came to him.' _

He had not had the strength to make a mind connection. Only when he was half mad with hunger

and pain, when it broke lose beyond his control, had he been able to feel her, see her of his own

accord and then it had been terrifying, for her and for him. Only since his reawakening had he been

able to contact her of his own free will.

"No, Mary. I can...feel you, see what you show me. When desired, we can even communicate

telepathically, as before, but I have never 'read your mind' as you say."

She sighed in relief. It would be much easier to say what she needed to knowing he hadn't

already read it in her mind.

Unconsciously, she turned until her cheek rested against the spot her forehead had previously

occupied.

"Ever since I was a small child, I've had dreams; dreams of a man I had never met yet whom I

knew very well. I _felt_ him. Not physically, of course, but, all of his feelings, his emotions, they

were like my own." Mary gave a sad half-laugh. "When I was very young I thought he was my

guardian angel and I would worry that I had done something awful because I so often saw him

weeping."

Her hands had gradually slipped down until they were clasped around him. He leaned into this

unconscious embrace, unable to resist something he had not realized he so desired until that

moment. Mary continued.

"I would think, _'I must have been very bad, to cause an angel to weep so.' _And when I woke, I

would badger Mother into saying the Rosary with me,I supposethinking, _hoping_, that would

somehow fix whatever I had done wrong." With a start, Mary realized she had started to cry. But

she didn't care. Her tears continued to flow and ran down her cheeks, leaving trails that appeared

blood red in the hazy glow of the halfmoon.

She carried on, her tear-choked voice husky. "It never worked. As I grew older, the dreams

became more frightening, more real. I began to wonder if I wasn't losing my mind. I started

trying anything I could to escape them. Drugs, alcohol, partying until I was too tired to dream.

And, for awhile, it worked. Then Mother became sick and I had no choice but to try to take care

of her. By then I was rooming with Lucy and I convinced her to come and move in to my

Mother's home with me. And things went okay for a bit; until Mother died and then, it seemed as

if the floodgates opened up and it was worse, so much worse. I dreamed of terror and pain and

blood and being trapped and unable to move and the angel with the beautiful eyes of my previous

dreams had turned into a red eyed demon I could not escape from."

Mary ground to a halt, sobbing now too hard to speak. Judas broke the now crushing hold she

had on him and turned to her. He could feel her pain and confusion as well as he could feel his

own. It actually hurt him to realize that he was the cause of her suffering. Oh, yes, he knew of

what she spoke, although he had thought at the time it was delusions, hazy dreams which his

half-crazed mind had concocted while he was locked in his prison. He remembered the beautiful

dark-eyed child who came to him in his dreams and would take his hand and beg to help. He

remembered as well those glorious dreams which she unwittingly shared. The beauty and

laughter and childlike innocence that he had taken such pleasure in, those sweet, infrequent

moments that had kept him sane. He had never known she was real until that moment in the

plane. To see her, awake as he was, was shocking. He knew then that she was real. Not a

conjured figment of his imagination, not a pipe dream that he pretended he felt for sanity's

sake. No. She was real, and as beautiful as he had ever imagined. And she was his, a living,

breathing part of him. His Mary. And he would never let her go.


	2. Chapter 2 The Hunger

_Note to reader: I am currently trying to find some other sites to list my fic on as well. If you know of a good one for Dracula 2000 stuff, please drop a line and let me know. Thanks._

Chapter 2-First Hunger

Mary gasped suddenly, and doubled over. It was a pain she had never experienced before. His

arms held her up and kept her from falling to the ground in an agonized heap. Her pain flailed at his

mind and he knew immediately what was wrong with her.

"It is the first hunger. You need to feed." She heard him explain, as if from far away.

"I, d-don't think I can." She gasped out as another of the awful pains ripped through her.

He looked down into her pained, dark eyes and seemed to hesitate. Then, as if making an

agreement with himself, he gave a slight nod, scooped up her quivering body and, using his mind,

opened the verandah doors and strode into the living room. He sat her on the couch and then

casually stripped of his long coat and laid it on a nearby chair. He then seated himself on the sofa

beside Mary and pulled her around to face him.

"Mary, you cannot continue like this for much longer. You MUST have blood. Since you are not

able to do that on your own in this condition, you will take it from me." She shook her head

violently and tried to wrench herself away, but she was no match for him in her current state. He

ruthlessly used the power of his voice to soothe her.

"It is all right, Mary. You cannot fight the bloodlust. You will not win. Come to me; take what it

is you need."

She stilled and stared fixedly at his neck, unconsciously moving forward, mesmerized by his

voice. She could smell him, his blood a siren's call to her and she knew she could not resist. She

felt her fangs push their way through her gums but she was far past caring. She leaned forward,

her palms against his chest and gently nuzzled the juncture of his neck. Then, helplessly, she

sank her fangs into his throat. Connected as they were, the rush hit them both hard. The feeling

was...indescribable. She felt as if she were swallowing pure electricity, so live and powerful was

the sensation. At the same time, she felt almost as if she were absorbing him into herself. Bits

and pieces of life and memory flashed before her in a kaleidoscope of images she could not begin

to sort. In a few moments, her physical pain began to subside into a heady mixture of lust and

satiation. As it did so, she began to move slowly against him, unwittingly sensual, absorbing his

desires and enhancing her own.

As he overcame that first powerful rush, he was hit by a second, much more powerful wave.

Pleasure. An intense, overwhelming pleasure such as he had never before experienced. He

gasped at the sheer intensity of it and convulsively pulled her closer. This was so different than

before. She had taken from him, yes, so he could reveal his memory to her and it had been a

pleasure indeed. But this...this was different. Never, in all his long centuries had he ever allowed

one of his 'creations' to take his blood in this manner. It would have given them too much

knowledge of him. Too much power. But Mary...Mary was different in every way. With every

drop she took, she became more and more deeply bonded into him. That was the power of their

blood. For one vampire to take from another, bound them together in a near unbreakable mind

bond. They could now know each others thoughts and feelings at will. As he now knew the

moment her bloodlust was satisfied and her true lust began. Her every movement sent a flame

scorching through him hotter than any midday sun. She carefully detached her fangs from his throat

and lapped gently at the wound. Stroking her tongue over his neck and then bending to follow the

thin trail that had woven its way down his chest. He groaned aloud from the absolute pleasurable

agony of it. It had been so long...so long. He truly could not remember the last time he had been

touched, as she touched him now. It was...intoxicating. And he desperately desired more.

Mary lapped up the last small drop of blood and rested her head on his chest, her fingers stroking

absently, over and over, her hands moving in a unconscious, somnolent rhythm as her mind

focused on what she had just recently seen, and felt. She could still see the afterimages of what

was in his blood. She could still feel his pain, his loneliness, his despair, his desire, his utter

hopelessness, his...love. She knew without a doubt now that, for some reason, he loved her and

she knew just as concretely that it was within that love that his path to salvation would be found.

And with this revelation came a sharper, more poignant one; the realization that she loved him as

well. Despite all he had done, she could not, _would not_, abandon him to face his darkness alone.

Not only for his sake, but for the world and her own soul as well.


	3. Chapter 3 By the Light of the Sun

_Author's note: My thanks to all of you who have taken the time to review this story. It really helps light the fire under us writer's pens when we know that there really are people out there reading (and enjoying!) what we've written. As always, real life is the grand nemesis to my writer's imagination, however, I hope to be posting fairly frequently on this story. Please do drop a review if you enjoy this, or even if you wish to critique me. Constructive critique's are always appreciated._

_Now, on with the show._

Chapter 3- By the Light of the Sun

He realized her gentle stroking had ceased and, raising his head off the back of the sofa, he looked down at her. She lay quiescently, her face at an angle he couldn't see, but he could sense her mind working. He had to fight the urge to simply slip into her thoughts and see what she was thinking. It had been a (very) long time since he had practiced consideration, but he didn't want to alienate her again so soon. With his blood in her, she would know instantly if he entered her mind. And, if he were honest, he didn't want to move from the position he was in anytime soon, either. He felt relaxed, something he hadn't felt in quite some time. He also felt more alive than he had in centuries. He kept his arms locked around her, only to ensure that she wouldn't move before she was able, although she showed no inclination of moving from her perch. He allowed his head to fall back against the sofa and he closed his eyes. After a few quiet minutes, he wondered if perhaps she had fallen asleep. It wouldn't be surprising after all the turmoil she had experienced the past few hours. And she was, for all intents and purposes, still an infant in the blood. His own weariness was beginning to beat at him. He tuned his senses to the sun and realized that it would not be long before it began to make its morning climb.

He realized they would have to find shelter soon. He spared a fleeting thought to his converts guarding Simon and found that they had already retreated, Simon in tow, to find shelter for the day. As much as he hated to, he was going to have to move.

"Mary?" she felt the reverberation of her name echo in his chest. She stirred slightly and slowly raised her head to lock gazes with the eyes above her.

"Mary, it is imperative that we find a place to shelter from the sun. Is there anywhere in this house that we can go?"

She paused, trying to gather her thoughts, "Yes, there is a, ah, room behind the staircase, for storage. Its just a cupboard really," She realized then that she would now require shelter as well and gave a significant glance to his tall form. "I don't think it would be big enough for two," she said doubtfully.

She sat up on the sofa and cautiously scooted backwards as he fluidly rose and walked out of the living room. She paused a beat and then reluctantly rose and padded after him. She found him standing in front of the small door under the stairwell, gazing consideringly at its depths. He then cast his glance back to her, vaguely thinking to send her for something with which to pad the floor. Then he remembered what was most probably still upstairs. _No, now was not the time to confront her with that._

He took a quick moment to scan her mind for an image of the house and its contents and almost sighed with relief to note a linen closet only on the other side of the hall.

"Mary, we will need something upon which to rest. Can you take care of that while I take care of this?" He waved a hand toward the cluttered little storeroom.

She nodded, annoyed at feeling embarrassed to have someone viewing what was essentially a junk room. She turned down the hall and opened the linen closet, trying to find something suitable within. As soon as she turned down the hall, he moved with the preternatural speed of their kind and began to swiftly clean out a spot for them in the tiny room. Apparently, she had not gotten rid of anything she had ever owned, he could feel bits of her essence clinging to each item.

_So, Mary was a packrat_.

It almost made him laugh and he paused for a second, unable to believe that he could find that humorous, that he could find anything humorous. He hadn't laughed about anything in so long. He cast a quick glance down the hall to see Mary half-buried in the closet, pulling and flinging things into the hall behind her, muttering something beneath her breath so low that even his superlative hearing couldn't quite make it out but he could definitely pick up the waves of anxiety, irritation and weariness she was broadcasting. It was going to be an interesting day.

Finished with emptying the room, he ducked his head and stepped inside. She was correct. It _was _tiny. It would be a squeeze to get both of them inside, but there was no other choice. The sun was already on its upward climb into the sky.

He felt Mary's presence an instant before she stuck her head inside the door. She gave the tiny alcove an eloquent Look and then turned her gaze upon him. Dropping her armload of items just inside the doorway, she motioned for him to step out. She made a nervous gesture toward the closet.

"I don't suppose you happened to see if there were any spiders in there, did you?"

He gave her a quizzical look and then looked quickly to the closet. "I would assume there would be, yes."

Mary's eyes grew large and, shaking her head, she began to back away.

"No. Oh, no. No one said anything about having to sleep with spiders."

Judas gave her an exasperated look, "Mary, we don't have time to clean out the spiders and we don't have time to find somewhere else to sleep." He could feel her determination to stay away from the..._'creepy crawlie thingees?' _He almost laughed again at the vehemence with which that thought came across. However, he had enough sense to know that laughter at this point would be a BAD THING. Feeling their time running out, he knew he had to think of a way to get her inside and quickly.

"Mary, the spiders won't bother you. They avoid our kind the way a human would avoid them. I will make sure that none of them come near you." He sincerely hoped she took that at face value and didn't try to probe him or she'd find out just how big a lie he had just told her.

Mary paused and considered him a moment. _Did she truly have a choice at this point?_ The sun was coming up, she could feel it herself, deep inside. Closing her eyes, she reluctantly nodded her acquiesence.

Without giving her time to think too much, Judas quickly pulled her inside and shut the door, just as faint rays of sunlight began creeping through the livingroom's French doors.


	4. Chapter 4 Enter the Darkness

_Author's note: Thanks so much to all of you who took the time to review this story. I'm trying really hard to get this one finished and posted in a reasonably timely manner. Reviews seem to be a kickstart to my writer's muse, so please, keep kickin' her sorry butt!_

_Now...for the good stuff._

Chapter 4 - Enter the Darkness

There was just enough room for them to stand side by side inside the doorway before the room slanted away beneath the stairwell. Mary was quite amazed by the fact that she could see inside the pitch black room as easily as if it were lit by daylight. In an effort to distract herself from reality, she knelt and started shaking out the blankets she had dumped inside, trying to form some sort of spot to stretch out in.

Without a word, _he_ reached down, grasped the opposite end of the blanket and flipped it out to cover the spaces Mary couldn't reach. She bit her lip, trying to keep her nervousness at bay. She was, for all intents and purposes, trapped with this man until sundown. And inside this tiny, airless hole. Mary closed her eyes, attempting to will her panic to subside.

Judas could feel the anxiety emanating from Mary. He knew, by virtue of their bond, that she had a dislike of enclosed spaces nd he admired her effort to ignore it as she tried valiantly to create a spot in which to retire. He leaned down to offer his assistance and felt her discomfort and fear escalate. He glanced over at her and saw her eyes clenched tightly shut, her hands clenched just as tightly on the pillow she held in her hands. He had to find a way to calm her down before her emotions started to overly affect his own. He could already feel tendrils of anxiety reaching into his mind, affecting his own feelings. He reached forward and tried to, gently, take the pillow from her grasp. Her grip was too tight. He knelt down in front of her and wrapped his arms around her. He bent his head close to her ear and paused briefly, breathing in her delicate, alluring scent.

"Mary, you must calm down. There is no reason to be afraid. There is nothing here that can harm you," Mary heard the hypnotic tone of his voice as he attempted to soothe her fears and, despite herself, she could sense herself calming, could feel her mind and will and emotions conforming to his wishes. And she just couldn't find the desire to fight against his control, especially since she could also feel the awful, choking fear that had begun to consume her subsiding.

He felt her relaxing and gave a mental sigh of relief as he felt the emotions she had been projecting recede from his own mind. She relaxed into his embrace and he tightened his hold, closing his eyes to savor the sensation of Mary, real and warm, in his arms. He kept speaking, anything, to ensure that she continued to stay calm, to keep her from turning her focus back to her fears. Slowly, he levitated them both to a more comfortable pose, positioning the rest of the various covering and pillows with his mind.

Mary felt as if she were floating, hypnotized by the sound of his voice. She wondered, briefly, if he knew what he was saying to her, as he whispered to her in Aramaic, in French, in a multitude of languages she didn't know but, somehow, understood. She gave a start when she realized suddenly that she was no longer kneeling, but lying upon the neatly arranged covers, nestled snugly within the embrace of this man who raised such strong and conflicting feelings within her. She looked up and found herself locked in his gaze, unable and unwilling to look away.

Judas allowed Mary to slip free of his hypnotic suggestion and felt her surprise when she realized where she was. He watched her intently, capturing her gaze the moment she looked up. Her large dark eyes were so confused. Unwilling to face her questioning glance, he instead sent her a strong suggestion to sleep and watched as her eyes slowly drifted shut. She relaxed completely against him and, satisfied that she should sleep the rest of the day without trouble, closed his own eyes and mind against the light and his own confusing and disturbing thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5 What Dreams May Come

_Author's Note: Sorry, guys, that I've taken so long to update. Not only have I been dealing with 'real' life, but I've been beating my head against a massive writer's block for the past few days. Fortunately for me (and my sadly abused cranium), my muse came and hacked the thing to pieces with his mightly sword. By the by, have any of you ever noticed that Gerard Butler is #?$& good with a sword? (He's a bloody good muse, too! wink,wink!) Thanks to all who have taken the time to review. If there's anything I could be doing better/different, just drop me a line._

_Thanks and now for the good stuff._

Chapter 5 - What Dreams May Come

Mary walked down the corridor, her footsteps echoing off the empty, red walls and black painted doors. She could detect a faint glow ahead of her and quickened her steps, anxious to get out of the eerie strangeness of where she was. She finally reached it, a large, ornately carved gold door, its burnished brilliance reflecting what little light there was in this strange place and furnishing the glow to which she had been drawn. Slowly, she reached out and took hold of the giant golden cross that seemed to serve as a handle and pulled the door open. A brilliant light illuminated the crack and grew larger and more brilliant as she opened the door wider. Mary was blinded for a moment by the glare and turned her head.

When she turned back, her world had changed yet again.

She saw herself, sitting in her mother's church, talking with David. Mary quietly stepped closer to the pair but they took no notice of her. As she drew closer, she began to be able to make out their conversation.

"Oh, David, I just, I don't know what to do," Mary heard her dream self say as she looked, teary-eyed and pleadingly at her friend and counselor.

"Yes, you do, Mary. Your mother has spent her whole life trying to show you the way...because she loved you. And she didn't want to see you hurt anymore by making the wrong decisions," David sighed and looked down at his clasped hands, "Look, I know it hasn't been easy, trying to take care of your mother, but you can't keep running from yourself."

David looked up then and leaned forward, earnestly clasping Mary's hands within his own.

"Mary, we've been friends for a long time now and I have watched you as you turned your back on God and the Church and went your own way. I've stood back and watched as you've tried to drown whatever it is that so haunts you in every wild pleasure you could find. And I've listened as your mother practically prayed the ears off of God, Christ, the Holy Mother and every saint she could envok in her effort to see you safely thru whatever you were into at the time," David paused as he tried to choke back his own emotions.

Mary watched and cried along with her dream self as she remembered this moment and watched herself look to David with tears rolling down her cheeks, "Oh, God, David..." she looked down and bit her lip hard, then whispered in a tear-choked voice, "You don't know the things I've done...what I've _wanted_ to do.I can't ever ask, or expect, to be forgiven," crying harder, she continued, "I don't deserve it."

Mary watched as David wrapped her other self in a comforting embrace and whispered softly, "Don't you know by now, Mary? We've all sinned and fallen short but that doesn't mean He stops loving us. That's why He came and died in the first place, so that we would _know_ that He loved us, _despite_ the things we've done. No one _deserves_ to be forgiven, it's a gift. A gift of love, to _everyone._" David huffed a small laugh, "Even Judas would have been forgiven, if he'd just asked. But you have to ask, Mary, that's the only condition. You have to be sorry and _want_ forgiveness."

Mary leaned away from David and looked him in the eyes, "I do, David, oh, I so do want to feel...absolved."

Mary watched as her dream self and David leaned closer together and began to pray. She remembered so clearly now that night. It had been the night she had realized for a fact that her mother was dying. She also remembered everything that had followed. She remembered Lucy's good-humored but not understanding tolerance as she stopped going out with her. She remembered how badly she had craved a drink or a hit and all the nights David had spent talking her thru it. And she remembered her mother's quiet joy at seeing her child walking the path she had tried so hard to show her. Mary turned away from the quietly praying pair and as she did, her eyes fell upon a picture above the altar. She walked forward for a closer view.

It was a depiction of the Last Supper and something about it was so familiar...

Her eyes were drawn to the figure at the end of the table. A depiction of Judas Iscariot. As Mary gazed at the painting, David's words of earlier rang in her head _'Even Judas would have been forgiven, if he'd only asked'_

Suddenly, the painted eyes of Judas turned towards her and flared to life in an ugly, glowing red.

Mary jumped back and screamed as the figure seemed to come to life before her. Abruptly, she found herself on a stark hillside, the Judas of the painting grasping at her with clawed fingers and desperate eyes. Mary screamed and struck out, knocking him back and she turned to flee, running blindly down the hill. She could feel her pursuer behind her and she looked back only to see multiple pairs of glowing red eyes shining out of the darkness and gaining on her. She screamed again and ran harder, only to feel the grasping hands of her pursuers grab her from behind. Terrified, she struggled and fought for all she was worth, crying out for help.


	6. Chapter 6 Night Terrors

_My apologies to everyone for the shortness of this chapter and for taking so long to add it. I really appreciate everyone who has been so kind as to review this story. Your comments are greatly appreciated and, like any writer, it seriously lights up my day to read a review and know that someone is enjoying my work. I can't promise to regularly update this, since I am working on my own original work to try and publish, however, I DO have this story outlined so hopefully I can do a little better and get it all out within the next 4 to 5 months. Peace, love, Merry Christmas and on with the show!_

Chapter 5 Night Terrors

Judas felt tendrils of fear creeping into his sleep. He had stirred only slightly when the terror slammed into him full force, propelling him out of his sleep just in time to hear Mary screaming in fright beside him. He turned and reached out to wake her only to have her knock him back into the wall as she leap to the far end of the tiny room. The force of her blow momentarily stunned him, however, he quickly recovered and went after her. She was still asleep and she screamed again in terror as he grasped her arms, both to try and wake her and to keep her from striking again. He could feel the terror in her mind and tried to reach into her dreams to see what had her so frightened. Before he could do so, she awoke, abruptly, gasping and crying in fear and panic. Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms and was surprised as she wrapped herself around him, clinging to him like a child to its parent. He began to rock, automatically, as Mary shook and sobbed in his arms. Whatever it was, it had obviously frightened her badly. He was honestly shocked that she had awoken out of the sleep he had put her in. It should have been impossible. With anyone else, he was sure it would have been impossible. But with his own blood running naturally through Mary's veins, the regular rules didn't seem to apply. Anything was possible.

Ever so slowly, Mary's sobs began to grow quieter...yet he did not release his hold. Mary no longer clung to him but lay quite still and quintesent within his embrace. Almost as if she had exerted herself beyond physical (and mental?) endurance into complete and utter exhaustion. He was, for the moment, totally nonplussed. Should he let her go? Put her back to sleep? Would she stay if he did? And still, straining above all these questions was the one small statement that held him temporarily immobilized with indecision.

_It feels so very good to be able to hold her like this._

He stoutly resisted the urge to lay his head over hers and will them both back to sleep. However, after a few moments, he came to the abrupt realization that that question, at least, had been temporarily solved. Mary had fallen back to sleep, still locked in his arms.

_I suppose this also solves my other questions as well_, he thought, as he once again levitated them into a more comfortable sleeping position and gave himself up to the oblivion of sleep.


End file.
